


We All Have Ghosts

by DaturaMoon



Series: Other Pedro Pascal Characters [11]
Category: Agent Whiskey - Fandom, Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Black OFC - Freeform, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:00:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28730835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaturaMoon/pseuds/DaturaMoon
Summary: A three (or four) part Agent Whiskey fic. In the works. Coming soon. Here is a preview!This is kind of an enemies to lovers, but not really.
Relationships: agent whiskey / agent brandy, agent whiskey / ofc
Series: Other Pedro Pascal Characters [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2013037
Comments: 9
Kudos: 4





	We All Have Ghosts

Late that night - At the Safe House 

Whiskey notices the tension on her face as Brandy bandages him up. The small wound on his forehead was only a scratch compared to how bad it could have been if she didn’t move him out of the way. 

She smells good. She always did. But besides sitting next to eachtother at the office or in a car, there was usually a bit of space between their bodies. Now, as she hovered over him he had to do his best to only look at her face. Her skin is soft as she smooths his hair out of the way to lay down the bandage after the wound is cleaned and stitched.

Agent Brandy stands tall and observes her work, still not making eye contact with him. She takes a step back. 

“You’re all good.” 

He notices the slight shaking in her hands as she puts the items back in the kit and disposes of the used ones. Her hands were steady as she worked on him, she must have held this back to hide it from him. 

“Brandy, back there -” 

“It’s fine.” She says quickly, cutting him off before he can get the sentence out. 

Truth was, her heart was still in her chest and her knees a little shaky. Everything went south, just as she feared; they were lucky to get out with their lives. A small head wound and some bruises for Whiskey. Bruises and a cut on the arm for her, it was a blessing considering the circumstances. 

Without another word, Brandy moves to the other table, kit in hand. She stips off her over shirt, revealing a black tank top underneath. The fabric of the long sleeve sticks to the wound and she winches as she peels it off. 

Whiskey stands and walks over to her. Brandy starts to protest but he speaks first, 

“I am well aware you can do it yourself. But, let me help.” 

He was so - gentle. Brandy thinks. Ever since the job blew up in their faces back there he was like she's never seen him before. Not a single sexual advance or joke was made, he didn’t act like, well, Whiskey. 

He was even eerily quiet and almost sullen. It was off-putting to say the least. Brandy didn’t know if she was making this up or not, but the look in his eyes was even different, vulnerable even. Whoever Whiskey was underneath all the performance seemed closer to the surface than ever.


End file.
